Before the abuse, 4-year-old thrived

Patty Ojeda-Quintero, the biological grandmother of Josiah Williams, holds a portrait of the five-year-old at her home on Wednesday, Feb. 20, 2013. In a corner of her home, other photos and an urn holding the ashes of Williams is kept in remembrance. Williams was found deceased in his home in December 2012 and his parents were arrested and charged with felony injury to a child.

Photo By Kin Man Hui/San Antonio Express-News

An urn holding the ashes of Joshiah Williams sits on a mantle in the home of his biological grandmother, Patty Ojeda-Quintero, on Wednesday, Feb. 20, 2013. Williams was found deceased in his home in December 2012 and his parents were arrested and charged with felony injury to a child.

Photo By Kin Man Hui/San Antonio Express-News

Patty Ojeda-Quintero, the biological grandmother of Josiah Williams, reflects on her deceased grandson at her home on Wednesday, Feb. 20, 2013. In a corner of her home, other photos and an urn holding the ashes of Williams is kept in remembrance. Williams was found deceased in his home in December 2012 and his parents were arrested and charged with felony injury to a child.

Photo By Kin Man Hui/San Antonio Express-News

A photo of Josiah Williams hangs in a corner of a room at the home of his biological grandmother, Patty Ojeda-Quintero, on Wednesday, Feb. 20, 2013. In a corner of her home, other photos and an urn holding the ashes of Williams is kept in remembrance. Williams was found deceased in his home in December 2012 and his parents were arrested and charged with felony injury to a child.

Photo By Kin Man Hui/San Antonio Express-News

Patty Ojeda-Quintero, the biological grandmother of Josiah Williams, sits near a corner of her home where photos and an urn holding the ashes of Williams is kept in remembrance. Williams was found deceased in his home in December 2012 and his parents were arrested and charged with felony injury to a child.

While Patty Ojeda-Quintero's grandson, Josiah Williams, was living with her for eight months, she said the 4-year-old was thriving — he was taller than others in his preschool class, loved to play outside and watch Spongebob.

Then his father resumed visitations.

Six months later, on Dec. 27, while in his father's care, Josiah died — emaciated and covered with bruises and burns.

Ojeda-Quintero is speaking out for the first time about what happened to her grandson, whose ashes sit on the mantel in her South Side living room.

The blue-and-silver urn is surrounded by pictures of the chubby-cheeked boy.

Josiah's biological mother, Carlotta Balleza, 24, gave her mother, Ojeda-Quintero, the authority to care for Josiah after she was arrested on a warrant April 5, related to a probation violation for a previous drug charge.

Josiah and his mother had been living with Ojeda-Quintero since October 2011.

The last time Ojeda-Quintero saw her grandson was June 29, when she said Charleston and Crystal Williams arrived to pick up Josiah for a weekend visit.

The next day, she got a letter from their attorney, Rosie Reyes, that said Charleston Williams was entitled to a monthlong visit, and they wouldn't be returning Josiah to her until July 31.

“That was fine, it didn't bother me that they wanted to see him,” she said. “I was glad because they really hadn't seen each other in two years.”

She asked to talk to Josiah on the phone that day, to explain to him he wouldn't be coming back to Grandma's house for four weeks.

“I remember he was talking real quiet, like he was being shy. I asked if he knew he wouldn't be coming home for awhile and he said he knew,” she said, tears forming. “I said, 'I love you,' he told me, 'I love you too, Grandma,' and that was it. And that was it.”

It would be her last conversation with her grandson.

The Williamses stopped answering and returning her calls, she said. They stopped responding to emails and Facebook messages, too. And when Ojeda-Quintero drove by what she thought was their home, no one was there and the neighbors had no idea who they were, she said.

“It was like they had disappeared, and there was nothing I can do,” she said. “Grandparents don't have rights.”

Rachel Ojeda, Josiah's great-aunt, who was his caretaker for several months in 2009 and 2010, echoed that feeling, saying the family members did what they could to find him, driving by the past three addresses for Charleston Williams, even visiting stores in the area hoping to run into them, without luck and without recourse.

Then on Oct. 19, Ojeda-Quintero said she got a phone call from Crystal Williams, telling her that she and her husband had been awarded temporary custody of Josiah and would be seeking child support payments from Balleza, who's still incarcerated.

The next phone call came on Dec. 27, from Charleston Williams.

“Charleston told me two different stories about what happened in a 10-minute phone call, and that's when I knew they had done something to the baby,” she said. “He told me EMS took Josiah and the cops took him and Crystal in for questioning. 'Josiah passed,' he told me.”

The last time she saw her grandson, who had turned 5, it was to make funeral arrangements. The 38-pound boy had suffered “serious abuse, malnutrition and neglect,” officials said.

“I remember the detective telling me, 'You might want to consider a closed casket, because the little boy in these photos is not the boy we picked up,'” Ojeda-Quintero said.

The family had an open casket, but had to put a hat on Josiah to cover his head trauma.

Witnesses who came forward to police after his death told authorities they were present when Proo and Crystal Williams openly mocked and hit Josiah, and wouldn't let him eat until everyone was done, when he was given just scraps.

After the initial visit, when the couple witnessed the abuses, they told police they attempted three times to call the home and speak to Josiah, even offering to take him to the park.

Each time they were rebuffed and told that Josiah was not allowed to come to the phone or go anywhere because he was being punished.

The couple told police they were conflicted about coming forward to authorities because the Williamses had two other children who appeared to be adequately cared for.

During the investigation of his death, police found holes in the closet of the Williamses' home on Gayle Avenue that were the same size and circumference of Josiah's head, with blood on the walls.

Ojeda-Quintero said that in her final conversation with Charleston Williams, “he told me Josiah would cry every night for me.”